


Release and Run

by sir



Category: Walking Dead
Genre: Docking, Frottage, M/M, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-04 04:43:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/706694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sir/pseuds/sir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hershel and Rick find themselves trapped in a tight space. Rick needs to go to the bathroom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Release and Run

It happened quickly, much faster than either man could notice. A routine supply run to the nearby pharmacy required Rick to escort Hershel, as the medicines he required were vast and, honestly, Rick had difficulty pronouncing half of them, never mind remembering the list. Both were too wrapped up in scouring shelves to notice the walkers slinking through the street, too late to react before they were upon them. Rick used the last of his bullets, blowing through a large walker blocking their exit through the employee side door. As they reached the street and looked around, it became apparent that options were limited. Previous scouting had told Rick of a large quarry filled with undead workmen to the south, and this new crowd passing through town seemed to come from every other street. A large oil tanker had exploded in an alley to the north-east, but Rick doubted Hershel's ability to climb over before the walkers reached them.

Fortunately, Hershel noticed a small opening between two ramshackle buildings and the pair rushed for it, squeezing through at the same time, panic overtaking. Surely, they evaded the walkers, but an attempt to continue through was futile with both packed into the tiny route at the same time. Resolving to go in one-by-one, the two made an effort to leave – unsuccessfully. It seemed that in their fervor to escape both had pressed too far into the corridor at the same time and had gotten themselves stuck. Each struggle for freedom only seemed to shove them closer together.

“What are we supposed to do now?” Rick muttered, shifting himself from side to side but stopping as he realised his crotch had been forced right up against Hershel's. He looked away in discomfort, hoping to avoid awkwardness at the situation. He felt a twang under his belt, a growing pain that caused a doomed expression to cross unto his features. With all the preparations pertaining to the supply run and general business keeping him busy around the farm, he had neglected to take care of his personal needs – including visiting the bathroom. He shifted again and rolled his eyes as his cock brushed Hershel once more, this time sending a shiver to somewhere behind his balls, a painful reminder of his full bladder.

Hershel had long since run out of underwear and had taken to going commando around the farm, his preference for solitariness meant that this had never been a problem - though now, with his sizeable bulge grinding hard against Rick, he had begun to regret not asking Glenn to pick up a few pairs on a supply run.

“We'll wait for a search team,” Hershel mused, unaware of Rick's predicament, “They must notice we've been gone too long.”

Rick's face scrunched up as panicked thoughts rushed to his brain. The search team could take hours to arrive and he needed to relieve himself now, desperately. He rocked on his heels as the urge grew, too far gone to care if he was inadvertently stimulating Hershel's cock. Hershel's eyes narrowed watching the trembling man before him, mouth opening slightly as he realised what was wrong.

Rick let out a strangled sob as the rush became too much to hold back. Piss flooded his boxer shorts and a growing stain on his khakis spread outward from crotch to thighs. Hershel's eyes widened as the warmth radiated against his cock and Rick's piss began seeping through. The thinning fabric of his old corduroys didn't last long against the stream of urine and he quickly found his cock and balls slicking with the hot liquid. Rick's head was bowed, beet red from embarrassment. His dry lips formed shapes of “I'm sorry” but no sound came out, barring the occasional strangled noise. Hershel's expression mellowed and he pulled an arm upward with some difficulty to cradle Rick's chin, forcing eye contact. After initial resistance and some reassuring stroking with a thumb to Rick's stubble, he looked up. His eyes were heavy and stinging, blinking back tears that collected at the corners.

“I couldn't...” Rick started before Hershel hushed him, shooting an understanding glance. With everything that had been occurring around the farm, all the deaths and all the shit that seemed to be endless, Rick had cracked. Hershel nestled closer, his own thickening white beard scratching Rick's stubble. He trailed his hand downward, unbuttoning Rick's shirt first, then his own. He planted a trail of kisses from Rick's cheek to his mouth, before gently probing in with a tongue. In his earlier years he may have attributed the understanding to being a father, or a doctor – regardless of the origin, he knew that Rick was in pain and that he needed affection. More than anything, he needed release.

Rick's protests turned into soft groans as he began to explore each other's torso. Roving a finger over Hershel's nipples prompted the older man to smile into their kiss with a satisfied hum. An icy wind swept through the street and Rick pulled back suddenly, cheeks returning rosy as both men were reminded of the balmy, wet patches below their belts. Hershel's hands moved southward, and with some difficulty unzipped both of them. He removed his hands for space and sighed out, belly pressing back against Rick, with both of their wet cocks pressing against one another.

“How 'bout I warm us back up, then?” Hershel drawled, shifting position to a more dominant one where Rick couldn't easily pull back again. The boy needed to relax and Hershel would make sure it happened. The shifting had pressed his cock into Rick's uniform and after a moment of silence, piss began to stream from Hershel with an emphatic grunt, as if he had been holding in for a while too. Rick breathed heavily against Hershel's open mouth, licking kisses against him as piss rushed into his khakis, coating his hairy thighs and slicking his pubes with heat. Hershel pissed like a horse, a seemingly unending cascade that soaked right down to Rick's socks and pooled around the two. Rick started into a grind, making sure Hershel's slick mess coated him fully. He was rock hard, gasping as the final jets of urine hit him. Hershel's erection followed shortly after, the two wet cocks sliding over each other as the two returned to their sloppy kissing.

Rick was ecstatic, lost in the sensation as climax built up in his balls. The world seemed to be fading away and he was free to feel every inch of Hershel's skin without worries. Hershel's own thick nuts were growing heavy with cum and his breathing reflected it. Rick smiled, amused that the old man had so much control over his bladder when the sentiment didn't continue to his balls. Rick lowered his hands underneath Hershel's belly and found his cock. With one hand carefully kneading his sac, urging him on towards ejaculation, he took Hershel's foreskin in the other, stretching the loose skin over his own cock head. Hershel blew his load, gasping as his foreskin filled with cum, coating both heads in semen. Rick started to quiet Hershel, aware their noise might attract unwanted attention but was soon overcome with his own orgasm. The volume of cum building under Hershel's foreskin became too much and sprayed over his already messy pubes, the rest dripping in thick globules onto his heavy balls.

As the emotion subsided, both men stood in silence, still pressed tightly against each other. Rick flexed up the last of his cum ad Hershel's eyes closed as the twitching of the other man's cock reverberated through his body. The confines of their location meant they were unable to separate and as such their spent, overstimulated cocks were forced to continue to grind against each other.

“I can't move,” Hershel grinned against Rick's cheek, drained of any strength and growing sleepy against Rick.

“Not that we could before.” Rick hummed back, pressing a kiss to Hershel's beard, then his nose.

In the distance a crossbow fired, followed by rifle fire, followed by arguing. T-Dog, Dale and Daryl turned the corner on the opposite street, with Daryl bending over to pick up some bolts from a newly expired walker. A rescue party.


End file.
